


grasping at the moon, facing fragmented windchimes

by loosecloudymist_OperaEagleAce



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: A Talk, Angst, Day 2, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Metaphor, Oneshot, Regrets, Sky day, Sky!Nana, The Author Regrets Nothing, and this doesn't fix the damage but they can try to make it better, but that's not what I had in mind, character introspection, in no way am I apologizing for the things they did to Tsuna, metaphorical writing, people make mistakes okay, plus i indulged in a bit of poetic writing, possible pre-Reborn/Sawada Nana, remorseful!Nana, she deserves cuddles, trying her best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosecloudymist_OperaEagleAce/pseuds/loosecloudymist_OperaEagleAce
Summary: Nana and Reborn have a long overdue conversation about Tsuna and the ways they could have done better with him.





	grasping at the moon, facing fragmented windchimes

It's late at night and Nana's tired and she's in the kitchen, staring at the wall like a zombie, and she's thinking about things she shouldn't be, that have repercussions so wide she doesn't want to face them. She's been here for a while.

She sips her tea, elbows resting on the table, and isn't very surprised when Reborn appears with a “ciaossu.” She turns to him with her natural gentle smile and asks, “Would you like some espresso, Reborn-kun?”

He nods, jumping onto the counter and settling down with his legs crossed. She puts her tea down and pours him some of the hot coffee she'd thought to start brewing fifteen minutes ago. Sliding it over, she takes a deep breath and leans her hip against the opposite side of the counter so that she faces the baby.

“You look a little young to be drinking such heavy coffee,” she notes, laughing a bit. “Do you want to tell me about it?” There's no way he can be an actual infant - no way an actual infant would be able to do so many good things for her son. She's digging for answers subtly without putting pressure on him, and he's clearly grateful.

“I'm older than I look,” he comments, and she waits for a minute but he doesn't elaborate further. She mentally shrugs, accepts it, and moves on to more important matters.

“We need to talk,” Nana says. Reborn's gaze darts back over to her and he studies her impassively before nodding. “First of all, thank you for everything you've done for Tsuna so far. He has so many people now, it's wonderful. All those connections I never thought he'd make…”

Reborn nods again, a ghost of a smile on his lips this time. Nana quickly picks up her tea from the table and returns before she says anything else yet.

“But don't you think you could have hit him a little less?” she queries, looking at him, _truly_ looking into him, for answers. “There… was another way to motivate him, right?”

Reborn shifts and that's the fastest she's ever seen a smile slide off his face, even compared to all the times that Lambo has accosted him. Nana can't quite stifle a helplessly exhausted giggle at that. He just looks more uncomfortable.

“I… suppose,” He begins like the words are being torn out of him slowly with a grappling hook, like they were thrown in a volcano and vaporized a long time ago and now he has to find them again. “I didn't care about him so much in the beginning.”

When he admits he cares, something simultaneously tenses and relaxes in him. Nana watches with a little smile, and of course he can't even look at her.

After letting him soak in self-reflection for a minute, Nana tells him, “What's important is now. We can't fix past mistakes.”

“He’s tough, he can handle it,” Reborn says, eyes glinting and utterly confident in her son. It's a joy to witness.

However…

“He was fragile when you first came,” she recalls, leaning against the counter and sending a piercing glance at Reborn-kun before staring off into the space in front of her, gripping her teacup. “Kami, I was still trying to figure out what to do. What should I notice, what should I let slide, how should I talk to him.” She laughs self-deprecating. Reborn opens his mouth while she takes a gulp of tea but closes it. She continues.

“I had no clue. I still don't, really. Never have been able to properly talk with any of the women around here - they don't approve of my marriage or my son - and I had no clue how to parent. Iemitsu not being here didn't help.” Reborn's fist tightens and Nana's loosens a bit. She stares into her tea like it will magically produce a time machine or give back all her wasted tears.

“But I tried. I tried the best I could. Support my son, right? Give him food, scold him every once in a while, adopt the weird nickname, don't get too involved or he won't want you.” Nana's mouth twists and her stomach squeezes as she remembers those failures of hers. Reborn's eyes become a little less hard, more glinty. “Well, he didn't want me all that much anyway, did he.”

“You know that's not true,” Reborn interrupts softly.

“He's ashamed of me,” she responds, “and it's warranted. The way I called him no-good just because I thought he didn't care, was trying to get a reaction. The way I didn't let him know he always has my unconditional support and love, that I wanted more time with him but was always afraid to ask. It must have looked like I replaced him with all these new children, huh.” She shakes her head in her hands and laughs that laugh again, like roaming stars that know they aren't going to find anywhere that fits.

Once again, Reborn is hit with a rush of secondhand guilt, like a drug, almost. “Lambo, Fuuta, and I-Pin need you. You're a wonderful mother, you were just… figuring it out, as you said.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, looks up with solid gold eyes that only hold the weight and see none of the value in the metal. “Wish I'd done it sooner, then maybe we'd still have much of a relationship.”

“We both made mistakes in our handling of him,” Reborn admits quietly, a stark, steel-cold truth released into the air between them, and he stands beside her, pats her shoulder. She nods and sniffles.

“He was such a bright child,” Nana suddenly reminisces with bright eyes. “Cheerful and happy, if clumsy. Always optimistic and almost magical.” Blue paint drips in at the edges of her sunshine-warm eyes and her voices quiets. “And up until recently he was a complete wreck. I had no idea how to fix it. I'd reported the bullies but the principal only patted me on the head and told me he'd notify Hibari. Which he obviously didn't do, seeing as the bullying only escalated.

“I could never bring myself to tell him about that. It was such a failure. I would always ask him if there was anything wrong but he’d say no and turn those eyes on me. They said _don't ask, I don't want to tell_. And I could never stand up against those sad, defeated eyes. I should have been firmer. I should have pushed him with limits and expectations and loved on him more. That's how you got him to open back up, right?” She turns blue-honey eyes on the hitman and he fights the urge to pull down his fedora, to hide from their piercing, pleading gaze.

Reborn nods. “Took a while before I realized that I should have treated him more carefully, and by that time it wouldn't have made much of a difference if I'd stopped. He'd probably be more comfortable with me now than any softer approach I could try to take.”

Nana hums. “Wouldn't hurt to try anyway,” she offers, pulling out a seat and sitting down slowly. Reborn hops off her shoulder onto the table in front of the mother. “I'll teach him cooking. He'll be off on his own soon and I don't want him living on instant ramen. That should give me extra time with him while I can have it.”

Her expression is full of tinkling silver bells fading in the distance, late-night existential crises that turn into dirty dishes the next day. She stands on the cusp of a new day, facing a sunrise, while attempting to hold onto the shimmering, setting moon with a slowly slipping grip.  Both Nana and Reborn, mother and tutor and stand-in propped-up parents doomed from the beginning due to actions with repercussions that they've ignored for far too long.

(She knows that extra time won't be much, but it will be infinitely better than if she let these few grains of sand slip through her fingers.)

“I'll talk with him soon,” she tells him, looks straight at him, but somehow it still feels as if she's talking through him and the complete opposite direction. There lies the stairs, and above them, her son. He understands all too well. “You probably better too.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. It's a good suggestion.

“Buuut we're not quite done, as mentally and emotionally exhausted as I am already,” Nana continues, dragging herself up and refilling her tea. “There's still the subject of what exactly Tsuna is getting into. What should I know about it, and when will it take him away from me?”

Reborn can see the circles under her eyes and reanalyzes the fact that she's up so late tonight. Maybe this is not just tonight. And her lips are pressed together thin, hard, unyielding. She is steel, full of determination to do what she can with what she finds - to ride out the tsunami thrown her way by laughing, careless Fate.

Reborn looks at this woman and she looks back and he thinks of the saying “if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” Reborn looks at this woman and marvels at how her husband ever thought her to be weak or unworthy to share the truth with. He will beat sense into the idiot Young Lion the next time he sees the man.

“It's going to take him away from me. He was always going to go anyway, but this fast…” She smiles bittersweet, crumbling stone butterflies tugging at her mouth. She turns away to get him more coffee. “This hard. Iemitsu's already been taken, you know this home is just a house to him. He wanders, that's the way he is. Tsuna has been my solace ever since I knew about him.”

“You can't just hold onto him forever. He's not really _yours_ like a possession,” Reborn points out, feeling oddly frustrated and restless.

Her eyes slant at him, cutting into his words and his brittleglass soul, and she hums knowingly.

(She grasps at the moon.)

(They both do.)

(They both know there's no real chance of succeeding, but… not trying just isn't an option.)

“You're going to be around him when I'm not,” Nana finally proclaims, grabbing a dishtowel and wiping her hands. Reborn winces because it's true. He'll be there… but he's not sure which of them has it worse, since Reborn will be the one to witness Tsuna's descent into the cruel mafia world. The innocence that he's so far managed to keep will probably vanish, and all Reborn can hope for is that the end product will be vaguely recognizable.

All of a sudden Nana clicks her tongue. “He was fragile when you got here,” she reminds him, pokes him with one hand on her hips, “but you gave him people. People that have given him determination and an unbelievable spine of steel and ultimate dedication in turn. You're one of those lucky people. Whatever happens, he'll be fine.”

He frowns and her eyes narrow. “It's not that simple,” he tries to explain. “It's _mafia_. No one comes out the same way they've gone in, and nobody actually comes out either. And he's looking at being the big boss.”

Her gaze now is impatient hopping rabbits, and it makes him feel incredibly stupid. “Doesn't change a thing,” she proclaims, turning away and picking up a bowl and drying it. “He's still empathetic, devoted, and protective. Nothing will change those three qualities. Nothing has for me, and life's sure tried its fricking best.”

At that moment the orange gazes make sense, the natural acceptance of people into her house like breathing makes sense, the comfort and quiet pensive moments he's come to enjoy with Nana make sense.

(She's a Sky.

...He kind of wants her to be _his_ Sky.)

(But that's a thought for another day.)

“He'll be fine,” she announces with no qualms as she dries and puts away her trinkets. “I'm just sad he'll be separated from me.”

Reborn remains silent. There's not much he can say, and bringing up the fact that he'll be there but she won't would rub sandpaper deep into those sparkling wounds.

“He's going to call me and visit at least every year,” she states, calm as anything, no room for popped balloons. “No one can deny him that.”

“Of course not,” Reborn is quick to reassure. (He’s not sure - there's not much precedent for this case, after all.)

She finishes and turns to him with melting tender golden eyes, and it takes his breath away. Beautifully fragmented stained-glass windchimes of hope dangle behind the irises, and he's loathe to shatter them. “Teach him,” she asks him fiercely. “You're the only one who can. Teach him self-defense and shooting and negotiation and intimidation. Anything to keep him on his feet and coming back to me. Whole.”

She's piercing his insides with her eyes, and he's all too aware of her requests - stunned by the enormity and force of her trust. He suddenly realizes that while he'll be with the one she longs for the most, Tsuna, her son, Reborn himself will be separated from the one he wants to get to know the most, Nana, his potential Sky. The whole situation is so many different levels of screwed up - he'd _known_ to expect this from the mafia but the _knowing_ hasn't prepared him for the crushing feeling. It doesn't mean he cherishes his student any less, of course, but he still mourns for lost opportunities.

He nods slowly, deliberately, and slowly, deliberately, Nana's gaze lets him go. He hops back up the stairs, mind laden, trying to pretend she's not remaining in the kitchen collapsed on the counter, burying her face in her hands. He tells himself that he can't go back to comfort her, she wants this quiet moment of mourning alone before she'll patch herself up and be back to normal.

(They depart from the kitchen that night having finally released their grip on the moon.)

-._.-

The next day, everything is back to normal like there had never been a pause, a moment of realization and acknowledgement and mourning, a gap in the timestream rife with pomegranate seeds. There is no difference in their interactions with Tsuna but for purpose.

It makes all the difference. 


End file.
